


Together While Time Stands Still

by Seascribe



Category: The Eagle | Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Cuddling, Drunkenness, Fluff, M/M, firesides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-24
Updated: 2012-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-30 01:59:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seascribe/pseuds/Seascribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marcus and Esca find ways to keep warm during the first winter on their farm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together While Time Stands Still

**Author's Note:**

> For Coeurdesoleil. The title is apparently from a book (which I have not read) by Rachel Cohn.

That first winter on the farm is a miserable one. Neither of them is much skilled at building and so as the days shorten, the little farmhouse is drafty and cold. But it is theirs. The food that they eat has been prepared by their own hands, and even the bitterest winter wind cannot touch the warm pride that Marcus feels when he thinks of these things.

And too, there is Esca. He lies down beside Marcus on the pallet that they share, curled up close against the cold. It is not only the heat of Esca's body that keeps Marcus warm, but a bright little ember of happiness that sparked to life the very first time that Esca kissed him and that has not gone out since. Marcus never ceases to marvel that Esca allows him this, to hold him in his arms, perfectly trusting as he sleeps.

There is little work to occupy them on these long winter evenings, and they lie together in front of the fire, piled under soft furs that Esca has brought back from the hunt, passing a cup of mead back and forth as the snow piles up outside. Uncle Aquila has written to invite them to Calleva to celebrate the Saturnalia with his household, and though they have not decided whether or not they will go, the holiday is much on Marcus' mind, and he finds himself telling Esca stories of celebrations past.

"When I was ten, my father happened to be home for the Saturnalia for the first time. He let me stay up for the feasting and drink from his cup, but I fell asleep before the gift-giving and had to be carried off to bed. The next day, he brought me the puppy he had meant as my gift for the night before." Marcus smiles at the memory. "The pup was a runt and rather dim, but a more faithful animal I never knew."

"Doubtless why your father chose him for you," Esca says, splashing out the last of the mead. He drinks deep before offering it to Marcus. "In my clan, there was no place for a boy of ten, drinking with the men's side. But on my first solstice as a warrior, my brothers got me drunk and contrived to set me to dancing with the prettiest girl in the village. I suppose she was not very impressed, for she slapped me when I tried to kiss her." Marcus snorts with laughter. "I am a very good dancer sober," Esca says defensively.

"You will have to show me some time," Marcus says. "I promise not to slap you if you try to kiss me."

Esca grins and leans in to do just that, losing his balance as he does, so that his face is mashed against Marcus'. That last draught of mead has gone straight to their heads, and they collapse together back into the furs, seized by a fit of drunken laughter that goes on and on until Marcus' stomach hurts and he's forgotten what was so funny in the first place.

"Get off," Marcus mumbles when he's caught his breath back. "You're heavy."

"Am not." Esca buries his face against Marcus' shoulder. "You like it, anyway."

Marcus shoves halfheartedly at him, trying to deny it, but Esca slings a possessive arm around him. "Shhh, I'm keeping you warm," he slurs. "Romans, no good with the cold. You should be more grateful."

"Grateful to be used as your personal pillow?" Marcus scoffs, but he gropes for Esca's hand, squeezing tight. "I am, you know," he says after a while, without quite planning to. "I like it. And you. I love you."

Esca makes a pleased noise and lifts his head to plant a clumsy kiss on Marcus' cheek. "Next time, I can be the pillow. If you want." And to Marcus, warm and drunken and happy as he is in this moment, that seems as fine a declaration of affection as anyone could hope for.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Four Seasons](https://archiveofourown.org/works/384391) by [Jain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jain/pseuds/Jain)




End file.
